


A Different Kind of Relationship

by shinyhill



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Feeding, Homosexuality, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-23
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 17:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5793160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyhill/pseuds/shinyhill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For those who wanted a more toppy Anders, and for samellon, who drew me something nice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Need to Talk

In the beginning, the mage made Fenris nervous. Not that he would admit that. Nor would he admit that even before he felt nervous, what he felt for Anders was desire. Instead he insulted and argued with him, ignoring the way that his stomach fluttered at the sight of that red-blonde hair and golden brown eyes. Fenris was usually a polite and honest person – by choice as well as training, though he tried not to think about that. It made it harder to lie to himself…he very much enjoyed time spent in Anders’ presence.

Anders on the other hand, couldn’t make up his mind about Fenris. He was gorgeous, that part was easy. And the way he swung around that sword as though it weighed nothing sent alarming spikes of lust through him. But the elf had called him an abomination, had told Hawke that he would ‘watch’ him…it wasn’t nice to think that he was under special guard, even if it was by a very sexy elf. He wondered sometimes whether what he wanted more was to kiss the elf, or to put him in his place.

In the end, or rather, the beginning, it was Hawke who was responsible. He had gotten sick of them arguing, to the point where he left Fenris injured in Anders’ clinic and ordered them to get over their issues before he would take them with him again. Anders made a fuss, Fenris passed out, and Hawke left, slamming the clinic door on his way out.

Fenris was bleeding out on his table, and Anders was first and foremost a healer. He wouldn’t have left Fenris injured even if the elf were spouting obscenities at him, although, he mused, that hadn’t happened for a while. His hands glowed with healing magic, and he lay them over Fenris’ torso, searching for the wounds that had incapacitated him. A broken arm, two broken ribs, and worse - nasty, deep gash on his back from shoulder to hip showing that a rogue had probably gotten the drop on him.

Anders sighed, and let the healing magic flow from his hands into the elf, pulling skin together, straightening bones. Fenris would likely have words with him when he came too, but right now if he wasn’t healed then he was going to die.

Once the healing was done, Anders sat at his desk, resting his head in his hands. He wasn’t sure what Hawke expected, but he didn’t want to disappoint him either, not with all that Hawke had done for both of them. The rest of the night passed with for Anders in uneasy dreams.

Towards morning, he heard a moan, and looked up to see Fenris was coming to. He sighed, standing and making his way over to the elf. Fenris was still clothed in his bloodied, torn tunic and leathers, and his face, hands and feet, and hair were filthy. His eyes were met by green ones, a little bloodshot, but lucid.

“Thank you, Anders.” The words took Anders by surprise. Fenris, admittedly, had thanked him before, but he rarely called him by name. And each thank you usually seemed pulled from Fenris despite himself, accompanied by scowls and grumbles. This time he sounded sincere, it was nice, but odd. Anders shrugged, turning to get a glass of water for himself and one for Fenris. He watched as Fenris propped himself up, their eyes meeting again when Anders passed him the cup. Fenris held his gaze as he drank, and Anders found himself swallowing as he watched Fenris lick the last drops of water from his lips. He turned away to hide his flush, cursing his fair skin.

“Mage?” Anders turned to see Fenris standing behind him, closer than he expected. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Fenris raise his hand. Shit, well, maybe the elf was truly pissed off about being healed after all. He closed his eyes in anticipation of a hand through his chest. Instead there was a soft warmth on his cheek, gauntleted fingertips scratching at his hair. He opened his eyes in surprise. Fenris’ eyes were determined, fixed on his, his uncovered palm soft against Anders’ cheek.

“I believe Hawke asked us to talk,” he said, low voice rumbling, making something clutch in Anders’ chest.

“What…” Anders lipped his lips and took a step back. Something hesitant entered Fenris’ eyes, and he lowered them as he lowered his hand. “What do we even have to talk about, Fenris? You hate me. You hate everything I stand for. Maybe, when we’re with Hawke we can just keep our mouths shut. You never did want to hear anything I had to say anyway,” he turned away to hide the expression on his face, but he couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

He hunched his shoulders as he heard Fenris’ light footsteps approach, couldn’t help but flinch a little when an armoured hand landed on his shoulder. Fenris spun him around, frowning at him before once again turning his gaze downwards. Anders reflexively looked down too, but there was nothing to see but Fenris’ toes curling against the stone floor of the clininc.

“I don’t hate you, mage…Anders. I…” Fenris tossed his head, dried blood still matted his fringe, and he tutted at the way it clung to his face. “Could I…could I please clean up…and then we will talk?” Anders frowned, irritated that Fenris thought he could dictate to him in his own space.

“Whatever. Fine. Basin’s in the back. I don’t have a tub here. And you might as well just leave, I don’t see that we have anything to say to one another that hasn’t already been said. Fenris mumbled something that could have been ‘stubborn mage’ under his breath and went to wash himself as best he could. While he stripped off and sponged himself down he thought about the things he wanted to say. Could he? Should he? He wanted to say certain things, he wanted to have certain things from the mage…but…he snarled at himself. He wasn’t a coward. He would say what he wanted to say and see what the mage had to say in return.

Anders waited, sitting at his desk again. He rubbed a hand over his eyes, tired after the healing and unsure what Fenris thought he could say to change anything. He could keep his mouth shut around Hawke, not baiting Fenris was a small price to pay for Hawke’s assistance. Eventually he heard the sounds of bathing stop. Turning, he felt his mouth drop open as he saw Fenris walking up to him, naked and wet, and all Anders could do was blink at him and gape. “Wha…,” he licked his lips, raising wide eyes to try to focus on Fenris’ face and not all of that gorgeous, dusky, lyrium etched flesh.

Fenris watched the mage’s eyes darting first down at his body and then rising to his face, looking almost desperately into his eyes. Perhaps…he thought…perhaps this would turn out alright. “Do you…could you want me?” he said, and Anders’ eyes grew wider – if he’d had elven ears they would have been twitching, Fenris was sure. Fenris swallowed, this was more difficult than he had anticipated, but at the same time he was thankful that Hawke had forced him to do something.

“Fenris…what?…I’m not sure whether you’re in your right mind right now. Maybe you should sit down.” Anders was almost choking on his words. What in the Maker’s name? This was not a conversation he had expected to be having.

“I assure you, Anders, I am thinking clearly. I would like an answer. Do you find this…me…attractive? Or…” Anders still failed to respond, and Fenris dropped his eyes, stepping back a little with a sigh. “I know I’m not much to look at. Danarius left so many scars on me…but, I ah…I had hoped…It doesn’t matter.” He turned, ready to find his leathers and redress, although the thought of dragging those torn and bloodied clothes back on made him shudder a little. Cleanliness had been beaten into him so thoroughly as a slave. It was one of the reasons he kept the mansion in such a sorry state. A small act of rebellion. His own room though, was always kept as tidy as he could make it, and he liked his body and hair to be clean too.

Anders finally closed his mouth, the shock of the situation quickly turning to want for what he’d always assumed he couldn’t have. Fenris leaned over to pick up his clothes, showing off a neat set of hips, and muscular thighs. Anders stood, and with one quick step, he had his hands on Fenris’ lower back. “Stop,” he said, the word coming out a little harsher than he intended. He expected Fenris to push him off, to snarl…but instead the elf went almost limp under his touch, dropping the clothes immediately and stilling in his grasp.

“Fenris…stand up, please. I think you were right after all…we need to talk.”


	2. Oh...So That's What You Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two have a long overdue talk..

Anders had coaxed Fenris into a towel, and now the two were sitting facing one another on separate cots. Anders had double-checked that the clinic was locked and the lamp was still out. Anders sat and thought about what Fenris had said, what he wanted to say. He looked up at the elf, curled in his ragged towel, still naked, legs crossed and arms wrapped around himself so tight that the fabric of the towel was straining.

“So… can we start from the beginning…please? I had no idea that you were even interested in me,” Anders paused, waiting until Fenris’ eyes met his. Fenris sighed, uncurling one slender, muscled leg and letting it swing off the edge of the cot. Anders found himself distracted, and Fenris was smirking when he looked back at his face.

“Mage…Anders…I do not find this easy…it is difficult to find the words,” he ran a hand over his forehead as he thought. Finding the words in Tevene was difficult enough, Common was even harder.

“Take your time, Maker knows I’m not going anywhere,” and there was that hint of bitterness in his voice again, and he shoved it down, angry with himself.

Fenris watched him carefully for a moment, then opened his arms, pushing the towel aside. Carefully, looking Anders in the eye the whole time, he got to his knees on the floor and shuffled over to where Anders still sat on the side of the other cot. He placed his hands on Anders knees before running them down his calves, then lay his head down in the mage’s lap.

“Fenris?” Anders whispered his name, hands reflexively coming to rest on Fenris head. His hair was silky and soft, and Anders ran his fingers through it, feeling Fenris relax further against him, the heaviness of his head, the solid warmth of his body against Anders’ legs.

“Are you sure that you’re feeling alright?” He couldn’t help but ask, this was so far outside of anything he’d expected. Fenris made a sound of discontent when he lifted his hands, and when he spoke the elf actually shushed him. Anders held back what threatened to be a hysterical giggle and went back to stroking his hair. He was in awe, really, that this angry, once-broken elf trusted him like this.

Fenris spoke, finally, throat vibrating against Anders’ thighs as he spoke. His voice was the usual deep rumble that Anders had never admitted to himself that he loved, just quieter, softer. “This is what I want,” he said, and Anders felt the motion as he swallowed. He ran a hand slowly from Fenris’ forehead to the nape of his neck, and noted again the way that Fenris relaxed into his touch.

“I don’t understand…why, and why me?” Fenris tched, the sound familiar to Anders, but somehow absurd in the situation. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little, but stopped when Fenris raised his head to look at him, a familiar scowl on his features.

“Can you not be serious for a moment, mage!” Fenris snapped, then sighed again, sitting back on his heels and looking up seriously into Anders’ face. “I will…try to explain,” a long pause followed, in which Anders tried to think of anything else but the naked elf on his knees before him.

“I…Danarius…Fasta vass! Why will the words not come? I was his bodyguard, but I have told nobody that I was more than that. I was his slave, his personal body slave…do you know what that implies, Anders? Or do I have to spell it out?” Anders shook his head, a feeling of horror making Justice stir within him.

“I’m sure I understand you…but…why this?” he spread his arms wide to indicate the positions that they were in.

“Because I like it!” Fenris said, then bowed his head, face in his hands.

“You…you like being a slave?”

“No…what can I say to make you understand!?” Fenris was visibly frustrated, and Anders scooted off his own cot to join him on the floor, wrapping arms around him, pleased when Fenris let it happen, resting his head on Anders’ shoulder.

“Can I…can I try to help you? You don’t want to be a slave, obviously,” he said, working his way through his own thoughts as he went. “But…maybe you like being a little submissive, sometimes?” There was a small nod against his shoulder. “So…please don’t tell me this is because I’m a mage, because I don’t think that I could handle that…?” A head shake.

“No…I…I like you. A lot. I just never knew how to show it…” the confession was mumbled into his shoulder, but Anders heard every word with a little bloom of warmth in his chest.

“Alright…Maker, this is not what I expected today. So, you like me?” Another nod. “I like you too, Fenris. I always thought you were damned sexy, but I thought you hated me,”

“Don’t hate you,” came the grumpy reply.

“Well, I can see that now,” Anders chuckled, stroking one hand over Fenris hair rhythmically. It felt good, to hold and be held by another person. Just like this. He could stay here all night…well, no, his knees complained, probably he couldn’t. “OK, so you want me to…to dominate you? In the bedroom?”

“Hmmph,” was the unhelpful reply. Anders waited, and was eventually rewarded with more words. “I want to be yours,” at this Fenris sat back on his heels again, looking at Anders with such pleading eyes that he knew this was the crux of the matter. “I don’t want to be a slave. I do not. I know that. But…but Danarius chose me for a reason. It was not simply my strength that drew him. It was my…my need to belong, to be able to give myself, completely. I didn’t choose him, and I hate what he did to me, turning me into a weapon, raping me, forcing me to kill on command. But…I…I like to dedicate myself to someone, because it pleases me. And I want to be important to them too. Do you…can you understand what I mean?’

Anders had never heard Fenris speak for so long before. He was a man of few words, and believed in making those words count, and Anders had never known him to lie. “Yes,” he said softly. “I know what you mean.” And he did. Fenris wanted no more or less than to be loved, unconditionally. Just as Anders had wanted for so much of his life, while locked in a Circle where relationships were forbidden. He knew, oh he knew what Fenris wanted…and he wanted it too.

“Fenris…if we are to do this, then there are some things we need to talk about first. But before any of that, there’s something very important I need you to know. I want to be yours, too. This doesn’t just go one way. If you are to be mine, then I am to be yours. We are equals in this.” He stopped talking to see Fenris looking at him with eyes glossy with unshed tears. He raised a hand to the elf’s face just as Fenris surged into his arms.

Fenris’s kiss was inexperienced, but very enthusiastic. Anders was shoved back against the cot, naked elf crawling almost into his lap as he kissed and lapped at Anders lips. Anders threaded his hands into Fenris’ hair and held it tight, pushing back gently, loving the way that Fenris went still for him, the way his eyes were half-lidded and his mouth open and panting.

Anders decided – if he was in this with Fenris, then he would do it properly. “Go back to your mansion. I’ll meet you there tonight, as soon as the clinic is closed. We can talk some more then, and …more, if you’d like.” Fenris pouted, but nodded all the same, and then he was getting up, pulling on his leathers, torn and bloody as they were, and turning to go. It was almost as though nothing had happened between them – until he turned at the doorway and stood on tiptoe to kiss Anders gently on the mouth before he walked away. Anders touched his lips, the warm press of his fingers not as good as Fenris’ mouth had felt. Then he smiled, and opened the clinic, feeling better than he had in a long time.


	3. An Evening at the Mansion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First night together. Boy did I struggle with this!

It was a shock, but a good one, when Anders arrived at Fenris’ run-down mansion that night to find all of the corpses in the foyer gone. Fenris opened the door to him, clad, not in his usual armour, but in a pair of loose, white, drawstring pants, and a dark green tunic that left his arms and shoulders bare. He seemed nervous, and Anders was feeling nervous too. This wasn’t something he wanted to walk into lightly, and he assumed that Fenris felt the same way.

He hadn’t brought much with him, and had deliberately left his staff at home. He’d dressed casually too, taking off the feathered pauldrons and robe that he knew would remind Fenris of mages and Tevinter. He didn’t own many clothes, but he’d slipped on a pair of black pants that he tucked into the top of his black, knee-high boots, and an undyed cotton shirt, topped with a casual brown leather jacket that he had taken from Lirene on a loan. He was empty-handed, everything he needed in his pockets.

First things first. He walked in without a word to Fenris, who closed the door behind them and led the way inside. He seemed to lose focus a little, and Anders lay a hand on the small of his back. “The bedroom, Fenris,” he said firmly, and he didn’t miss the tiny movement when Fenris shuddered beneath his touch before continuing up the stairs.

Once there, Fenris paused in the doorway, turning to look Anders in the eye for the first time since letting him in the door. “Mage,” he began, but Anders raised a finger to his mouth to quiet him.

“I would prefer not to be called that, especially not when we are alone,” he said, calm, voice steady, looking Fenris in the eye. Fenris was visibly flustered, eyes unable to stay on Anders’ face. Anders moved his hand, taking his finger from Fenris’ lips and instead cupping his cheek. “Listen to me, please Fenris.”

Fenris lifted his chin, looking at Anders with a strange expression on his face. It was caught somewhere between fear, apprehension and sheer determination. It reminded Anders of how Fenris had looked when he wanted to hunt down Hadriana – Anders had admired him for putting his fear behind his determination to find her. He admired him now.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Fenris. I won’t do anything that you don’t want me to, understand?” Fenris nodded. It was starting to worry Anders that he hadn’t spoken yet, but he was willing to overlook that for now. “Can you lay down on the bed for me?” he asked. Fenris looked at him with a question on his face, hands nervously twitching at the hem of his tunic. “You can leave your clothes on.”

“I’m just going to get some water, I’ll be right back, alright?” Fenris, already laying on the bed, simply nodded, neck stiff. Anders waited until he left the room before sighing a little. He fetched water, a cutting board and a small knife. That would do for now. He had barely re-entered the bedroom when Fenris flinched, backing away on the bed until he was curled into a corner.

“What is that for?” Anders looked at him questioningly.

“The knife,” Fenris said, and Anders could see the fear clearly on his face now. He cursed himself for a moment – being stern, a mage, and bringing a knife in a small room with an ex-slave whose master had cut him and filled his skin with lyrium. Stupid, stupid! Instead of saying this though, he put the cutting board and knife down on the bedside table, and rummaged in his pocket for an apple that he flourished at Fenris before placing on the plate. Fenris relaxed…a little.

Anders sat on the edge of the bed, holding out a hand and waiting patiently until Fenris took it, scooting over to sit next to him.

“Listen, Fenris, this isn’t going to work if you can’t trust me. Have you changed your mind? That’s the first time you’ve spoken all night. I’m not sure you want this…or maybe I’m not the one to be the person you want,” he reined in his own emotions, waiting to hear what Fenris had to say. It was important for both of them that he remain in control of himself right now.

“No…no, I want…I want,” Fenris ended helplessly, unable to find the words. He’d said them once, surely he didn’t need to explain himself again.

“Then, trust me. I’ll set some ground rules, right now. I will not humiliate or hurt you. I will stop everything I’m doing if you ask me to, instantly. Alright? I might think that I know what you want, but it would be best if we communicate, properly, constantly. It might be hard for you to talk about, but…I hope that that will get better with time.” Anders stopped, still holding Fenris’ hand in his he turned and looked into his big green eyes.

“I do trust you, Anders. Please…I don’t want you to leave,” Fenris managed, before lowering his eyes to their hands. It felt nice to have a gentle touch, warm skin on skin. It had been so long since he’d felt anything like this. He slipped from the bed, crouching in front of Anders to lay his head on the man’s knees again. It felt right. It felt soothing, to give up control like this. He was so tired of being strong, trying to hold it together while he navigated the difficult terrain of freedom and being a fugitive.

Anders hands crept into his hair, stroking softly, and Fenris felt a wave of calm. He nuzzled his face into Anders’ lap, softly pressing his face against his thighs. Anders’ fingers stroked against the top of one long ear, and he didn’t bother to hold back the whisper of a moan at the intimate touch. He felt, rather than heard, Anders’ little intake of breath at the sound.

“Fenris, I never thought…that you would let me see you like this, be this for you.” In truth, Anders was still in awe that the elf wanted him at all. But he thought now that he was beginning to understand a little more. It wasn’t just love, it was someone to be strong for him, someone to take responsibility. Leaving Danarius had been an amazing achievement for Fenris, but he had no memories before that. To leave the one person who had taken care of him – albeit in a twisted and cruel way, who had controlled everything that Fenris did. It must be overwhelming to suddenly have no control, to be responsible for himself alone, never having had a chance to learn it.

Anders sat back a little, coaxing Fenris up on to the bed again. He lay beside him. Fenris’ eyes were wide, but his expression now was trusting, rather than fearful. It was beautiful to see that openness on his face, and Anders wanted so badly not to ruin this moment. He ran a hand up Fenris jaw, cupped his face softly and leaned in for a kiss. Fenris’ eyes slipped closed as he allowed this kiss, mouth soft and opening easily at the press of Anders’ tongue. Exquisite. Anders wanted badly, but he was still anxious to do this right.

“Lay here, be still, trust me. I’m not going to hurt you,” Anders stood, moving to take off his coat and empty the pockets. Fenris watched curiously as he took out several wide bandages, and a small bottle. Anders picked up the first bandage and showed it to Fenris before asking him to raise an arm.

“I’m going to wrap your hands, Fenris. Is that acceptable?” Fenris nodded, and Anders shook his head. “Use your words, Fenris,” he said with a smile.

“Yes, Anders,” Fenris’ voice was rough, and he cleared his throat, holding his hand up so that Anders could wrap the wide bandage around his hand. He took care to keep it flat and firm, not tight. He covered Fenris’ fingers, unwinding the bandage as he went, around and under his fingers and thumb, wrapping them together, over his palm and a short way up his wrist before the bandage was used. He tucked the end in neatly into a fold that wasn’t pressed against Fenris’ skin.

“May I wrap the other hand, Fenris?” Anders asked, voice calm and steady.

“Yes, Anders.” Once again, he showed the bandage to Fenris first, before carefully wrapping the other hand, firm without being constricting, no rough edges. Once done, he took a moment to lean forward, to stroke Fenris’ hair and kiss his forehead.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes Anders.”

“Good, Fenris, you’re so good for me. You’re doing so well,” Anders allowed himself a small smile at the almost invisible flush that rose onto Fenris’ dark cheeks, the twitch of his ears. He lifted first one, then the other of Fenris’ wrapped hands, raising them above his head to lay on the pillow. “Just be still, now. I want you to enjoy this.”

Bringing the bottle with him, he moved to the end of the bed, pausing there to remove his boots. Slowly, he picked up one of Fenris’ feet, stroking the top of it. He raised it, keeping his eyes locked on Fenris’ all the while, and sucked gently on his big toe. Fenris gasped, arms twitching for a second as he fought the impulse to reach out. Anders repeated the process with his other foot.

Anders kneeled up onto the bed, straddling Fenris’ legs and crawling slowly over his body, Fenris watching every slow movement. He grinned when Fenris licked his lips in anticipation of a kiss, and instead sat back to sit on Fenris’ thighs and run his hands teasingly under the hem of Fenris’ tunic.

“May I take off your tunic, Fenris?”

“Y…Yes Anders.”

“Good,” Anders crooned it into one long ear, breath huffing against Fenris’ trembling throat. He used both hands to slip the tunic up, over Fenris’ head and arms. He left it tanlged with Fenris’ wrapped hands, and ran his own down over all that beautiful skin that was now on display. He squeezed lightly over Fenris’ hips, pleased at the little buck he felt in response. Fenris’ pants were thin, his arousal obvious beneath the fabric.

“Fenris, roll over for me now,” he said, satisfied with the instant response. Fenris went easily, no fear or hesitation. His back was as beautiful as his front, slender, strong muscles that seemed to guide Anders eye down to Fenris’ slim waist, to the dip of his spine where it disappeared under his waistband. He let out a pleased hum. “Beautiful,” he murmured.

Fenris tched, his first audible response that hadn’t been a yes, and scrunched his face into his bicep. That wouldn’t do. Anders leaned forward, resting his weight on Fenris’ back to whisper into his ear. “Is there something you wanted to say, sweetheart?” he asked. Fenris shook his head, face still buried where it couldn’t be seen. The tip of the ear that Anders could see was flushed and too warm when he took the tip of it into his mouth. He sucked, and Fenris bucked and whimpered under his weight. “You are beautiful. Every part of you. Are you listening?” he breathed. Fenris gave him nothing but a little moan in response. Well, that would do for now.

Anders opened the bottle he’d brought with him, pouring out a little scented oil into his palm. He warmed it with his hands before running them up Fenris’ back. Massage was something he was skilled at, and he worked his way from Fenris’ lower back up to his neck and shoulders, taking his time, working out the knots that he found and didn’t stop until Fenris was pliant beneath him. He leaned up to run his fingers through Fenris’ hair, but before he touched it he realised that Fenris had fallen asleep.

He chuckled to himself quietly, carefully disentangling himself without waking the sleeping elf. A quick look into the other rooms along the hallway netted him a blanket and an extra pillow, and he lay down next to Fenris, covered them both with the blanket, and fell asleep to the sound of Fenris’ peaceful breathing.


	4. Fenris' Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Fenris' perspective, and a bit of morning after fun for Anders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind comments and kudos! This has been a bit of an exploration for me - I'm cconsidering and re-considering every word, rather than typing fast and without thought like I usually do. I'm trying hard to be true to how a relationship like this might evolve between them. I've done some study into slavery, psychological and sexual slavery and the ways in which it can change your responses, long term effects on the psyche etc. I am very much hoping not to offend!

Fenris had fallen asleep to Anders’ warm, talented hands soothing all of the tension in his body. By the end he had felt like he was floating, blissed out in appreciation of the touch and relaxation. When Anders had wrapped his hands, he hadn’t understood at first, this was nothing like any binding Danarius had put on him. That had always been aimed at either pain or humiliation, or more usually both. With the wrappings on though, he had felt somehow calmer. Not as though he were helpless, but as though he were being looked after. Later, when Anders had deliberately left his hands tangled in his tunic, it had become more like a restraint, but such a gentle one that it hadn’t made him feel uneasy at all.

At some point before he fell asleep, calm, warm, and more relaxed and peaceful than he had been for years, he had decided that Anders had definitely been the right decision.

It wasn’t until Fenris awoke the next morning that he realised things hadn’t gone according to how he had thought they would go. He had expected things to get sexual very quickly, and while he had been aroused by Anders touch, nothing had actually happened. The thought toyed at the edges of his half-asleep mind. Suddenly, it morphed into anxiety. If he had fallen asleep when Danarius had been toying with him, punishment would have been swift and brutal.

Stiffening, he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Anders’ pants clad legs, raising his eyes he could see that Anders was sitting beside him, propped against the headboard. He turned his head to meet Anders’ eyes, unable to help the little frisson of anxiety.

“Good morning, sleep well?” Anders smiled and Fenris nodded cautiously. “Come here.” Fenris let himself be manoeuvred until he was sitting between Anders’ legs, head resting on the mage’s chest. His hands were still wrapped, the bandages no more than a comforting press on his hands and forearms. They weren’t the type of restraint that had to be removed immediately, for some reason the sight of them pleased him, and he let his head fall back, listening to the beat of Anders’ heart beneath his ear.

“Open,” prompted Anders, and pressed a piece of apple to his lips. Fenris took it gratefully, the hollowness in his stomach reminding him that they hadn’t gotten around to eating last night. He chewed, the apple was sweet and tangy, still crisp between his teeth. He looked up at Anders face with a small smile on his lips. Anders smiled back, leaning forward to press their lips together in a soft, if awkwardly positioned kiss.

Anders fed him, alternating the bites of apple with sips of water from a cup he held to Fenris’ lips. Fenris couldn’t remember a time when he had felt so at peace. This was nothing he had ever experienced, a person taking care of his needs without thought for themselves. It sent a little twinge of guilt through him, and he rolled over to lay on his stomach so that he could face Anders’ properly.

Anders watched. Fenris was propped up, hands on his elbows either side of Anders’ knees. He was cupping his own face in his wrapped hands. He looked good enough for Anders to feel his breath catch in his throat. His green eyes were watching Anders with the same intensity they held in battle – focussed, piercing, missing nothing.

“Anders…” he wondered if he was allowed to talk, then dismissed the thought. Anders had been clear that he wanted him to speak last night. “Are you…I didn’t mean to fall asleep last night,” Fenris dropped his eyes, not even sure what he wanted to say. He felt good here, warm between Anders’ legs, comforted by food and touch. At the same time he felt somehow unsatisfied…he needed to do something for Anders. He felt the need to show him how grateful he was.

“It’s alright, Fenris. I’m glad you did,” he laughed at Fenris’ scoff. “No, really. I’m glad you felt safe enough to fall asleep with me here.” Fenris considered this for a minute. It hadn’t even occurred to him to try to stay awake. Which, really, was terribly unlike him. He realised that he had truly felt safe, safe in the presence of a mage, a man who had joined with a spirit…he wasn’t sure why but this trust of Anders had been growing for a long time.

Anders was smiling when he looked up again, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Fenris slid down the bed, body languid, thoughts content. Anders watched curiously. He hadn’t expected anything this morning. He hadn’t planned anything really, beyond coming here and showing Fenris attention, showing him that he was at least going to try to be the partner he wanted. In fact, what had happened last night and this morning had been beyond all of his expectations. The trust that he had been showed, it was still amazing that Fenris would show him that.

Fenris meanwhile had kept moving, until he was crouched over Anders’ calves. Leaning forward, he placed his wrapped hands either side of Anders’ hips and used his mouth to lip at Anders’ waistband, before looking up, a question in his eyes. Anders bit his lip. Then Fenris’ deep voice, “May I…Anders?”

“Fenris…anything you want…but only if you want to,” his voice hardened on the last words. He didn’t want Fenris forced into anything, but the elf simply nodded and gave him a smile that was all teeth. He leaned down again, using his teeth to capture Anders’ waistband and lower it, catching his cock and balls above the fabric before letting it go. Anders gasped breathily above him, and the noise sent a pang of desire through Fenris – desire to please, desire to give something back.

He licked his lips, then pressed them together before pressing them against the tip of Anders’ cock. Anders let out a little groan as the press of Fenris lips gave him the feeling that he was penetrating him, then the slow, warm wetness of Fenris’ mouth. He pushed his head back into the headboard as Fenris’ mouth slid down his cock, hot and perfect. He could feel Fenris’ tongue moving, pressing against him, sliding around his length.

Anders was lost in the sensation, but still he felt Fenris’ hands twitch at his hips, and he reached out, taking the elf’s hands in his, gratified when Fenris clutched at them, holding him firmly. Every bob of Fenris’ head had him squeezing his hands, panting. “Good, Fenris, that’s so good,” he gasped and Fenris answering hum sent another wave of pleasure through him. He thought he could come just from the sight of Fenris’ body, back arched, hips high and head low, his white hair moving with every motion of his head.

One more slow pull back, and Fenris was suddenly leaning further, angling his neck to take him deeper, and then he could feel the press of the elf’s nose against his pelvis, his lips pressed to the base of Anders’ cock. He gripped Fenris’ hands so tightly he was afraid he might hurt him, then Fenris swallowed around him, and Anders was arching over him, stomach tense as he spurted down Fenris’ throat with a wail.

Fenris took every drop, sucking and licking until Anders was clean, hips weakly jerking at every motion of his mouth. He pulled off, wriggling forward far enough to lay his head on Anders’ stomach. He felt…satisfied. He had done this to Anders, made him lose control, given him pleasure. The knowledge eased some deep need inside him. He almost purred at the touch of Anders’ hands in his hair, long, slow strokes from the top of his head down to the nape of his neck. Nuzzling his face into Anders’ chest he let himself enjoy it. He wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere.


	5. Anders, what are you doing?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm frustrated with Anders, he won't behave at all...this chapter wasn't quite what I had in mind...

“Fenris,” Anders said, when he could speak again, “That was amazing. Thank you.” It felt odd to say thank you for something so intimate, but what else would he say? This had already been the best night he’d had for a very long time. Unfortunately, the clinic was waiting, and he could tell by how high the sun was that there would already be patients waiting for him.

Fenris just wriggled closer, wrapping his arms around Anders’ hips. Anders gave a little sigh of comfort, mixed with a little regret. He really didn’t feel like moving either. And he wanted to make Fenris feel good too. He reached out, taking one of Fenris’ hands, and starting to unwrap it. There was no comment from Fenris, who simply held up his hands one after the other and let him take the bandages off. Anders had begun to roll them back up when he noticed the short posts that rose at the ends of Fenris’ bed and had another idea.

“Fenris, sit up,” his answer was a hmph, and an elf nose being rubbed into his belly. “Up!” he said again, a little harder this time. The elf sat, rubbing one now-free hand across sleepy eyes. Anders stood, making his way to the end of the bed. He crooked a finger at Fenris, who obediently made his way to the end of the bed, watching him curiously.

“Leg,” Anders prompted, holding out his hands and waiting until Fenris placed one of his feet into his hands. Anders slid his hands up Fenris’ leg, pulling on it a little, until he was holding Fenris’ knee in his hands. Without making any sudden movements, he placed Fenris’ foot on the floor, lining his knee up with the bed post. He took the bandage, and used it to tie Fenris’ knee to the bed post. He tied the bandage with a loose, floppy bow, looking up to see if Fenris was feeling alright about it. Finding no worry on his face, Anders continued.

“Other leg,” he said, and repeated the process. The bindings were loose, no more than a token, but the width of the bed meant that Fenris’ legs were stretched almost obscenely wide. Anders took a moment to savour the sight. He yanked at the elf’s loose pants until he had them down to mid-thigh, as low as they could comfortably go.

He knelt down, shuffling forwards until he was positioned between Fenris’ legs. Leaning up, he took a double handful of the elf’s hair, pulling him down into a kiss, more heated than they had shared so far – he could still taste himself on Fenris’ tongue, and it made him moan a little, the sounds vibrating between their mouths. Pulling back, he held Fenris’ head for a moment. The elf’s lips were kiss-reddened and glossy.

He took Fenris’ hands, and placed them on the sides of his face, pushed his head down between them. “Guide me,” he said hoarsely, before taking Fenris’ length between his lips. Traces of pre-come flavoured the elf’s cock, and Anders didn’t waste any time swallowing him down. He heard Fenris’ gasp, and pressed his head into one of the elf’s hands, encouraging him to use his hands. Fenris didn’t need telling twice. He took Anders’ hair roughly and guided the mage’s head up and down.

Anders enjoyed this, mouth full of his lover, hands gripping and guiding him. It was making his own cock start to twitch to life again and he slid a hand between his legs, stroking as he sucked and licked. He heard Fenris beginning to swear in Tevene, and then the elf was moving his hips, thrusting into Anders’ mouth, choking him. He relaxed, letting the Fenris push farther. “A…Anders!” Anders couldn’t answer, just took in as much of his lover as he could, gripping Fenris’ thigh with one hand, while he stroked himself frantically with the other. A moment later and Fenris bucked hard, coming down his throat, and he pulled back for long enough to breathe before spilling himself, heedless of the mess he was making of Fenris’ leg as he came for the second time.

Anders laughed, rough and throaty, but he couldn’t stop. He lay his head on Fenris’ knee and kept snickering until Fenris jiggled his knee, pushing his head off. “What is so amusing, mage?” Fenris asked, his deep voice prodding Anders out of his snickers.

“Don’t call me mage!” he said, almost shouted, and Fenris flinched before looking down with a scowl. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout…” Anders pulled at the bows, untying Fenris’ legs. He was feeling kind of annoyed now that the giggles had worn off. What was he doing here? How did he think this had any chance of working out? Honestly, it had been a shock that Fenris wanted anything from him, he should have known that this was a bad idea.

“I’m going to the clinic,” he said, shortly. There didn’t seem to be anything else to say, so he gathered up his clothes, remembering to grab the jacket Lirene had loaned him and left without another word.


	6. Anders this is what you get for being an ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders goes to Fenris' place for Diamondback night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, I am so sorry. It has been forever since I updated anything at all and I apologise. I just haven't been able to write at all, massive creative block! Hopefully I'm through the worst of it now and will get back into a routine.

 

Anders knew he had been an ass. By the time he reached the clinic he was feeling like going back to apologise, but there had been a cave-in at the Bone Pit and a constant stream of injuries kept him busy until afternoon. Tonight was the night that he, Varric and Donnic normally met at Fenris’s mansion for Diamondback night. Anders wondered whether he should go.

Running a hand through his hair, Anders swore as his last hair tie broke and his hair spilled down around his face. Too bad, he would get some more scraps from Lirene in the morning and cut them into new ties. For now, he simply shrugged his shoulders to straighten his usual coat, and brushed his hands down the front of it to dislodge the shreds of stitching thread that were stuck on it. He would just go like this. He would go. Maybe if he got there a little early he could apologise to Fenris before things got out of hand.

Fenris….Anders didn’t even know why he’d been laughing so much last night. It was relief – physical but also emotional. And the sheer incredulity at what had happened. But…Fenris had trusted him with so much, and right after saying that he would never hurt him Anders had shouted and walked out. And calling him mage had been such a small mistake. It hadn’t even been in a nasty voice, just…well, he had no excuse. Locking the clinic doors, he turned with a sigh to make his way to Hightown.

On the way he mused some more about their relationship. Yeah, Hawke had been angry with them the other day, and they did argue a lot, but it had been a long time since Fenris had asked him to card nights at the mansion with Varric and Donnic, and the more he thought about it, if he had only been invited to make up a foursome for convenient play well…Fenris could have asked Isabela or Hawke, even Aveline for that. The fact that he’d chosen Anders as his fourth made him wonder if Fenris had had some feelings for him for a while. Maybe if things went well tonight he would have a chance to ask.

It wasn’t to be though. Donnic hailed Anders as he made his way across the Hightown courtyard, and fell into easy step with him for the last few strides to Fenris’ door. Anders tried not to sound annoyed, but by the look on Donnic’s face he hadn’t managed very well. Why was he so easily annoyed at the moment! Frustrated with himself, Anders followed blindly as Donnic entered the mansion.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

Fenris’ eyes widened as Donnic and Anders swept in and sat in their usual spots, Donnic beside Fenris and Anders between Donnic and Varric. The dwarf watched though, noticing everything in his usual casual way, and he noticed something else too.

“You’re looking a little pale, Broody, something wrong?” Varric kept his voice and manner carefully casual, but there was no denying that Fenris, who had been fine before the others entered was now pale, his eyes wide and hand shaking slightly when he moved to grasp his tankard. He was staring at Anders, Varric realised, and he sighed. Probably just an argument, but the elf looked either terrified or furious.

“I…I feel unwell, excuse me for a moment”, Fenris muttered, loud enough for Varric’s ears only, and if the dwarf hadn’t known Fenris for so long he would have used the word ‘fled’ to describe his exit from the room. Varric shuffled the cards, sneaking looks at Donnic and Anders as he did, then dealt a hand. Donnic seemed fine, as jovial as ever, whereas Anders was hiding his face in his hair and picking at his buttons.

“Alright, out with it Blondie. What did you do to upset our host this time? Heal him unexpectedly? Light a candle with magic while he was around? Just been your usual apostate self?” Varric chuckled, picking up his cards and sorting them in his hands, watching as Anders flushed and shook his head. Maybe…nah…there was no way Isabela was winning that bet – they were definitely not sleeping together. Varric chuckled again and took a swig of his ale.

“Well if you haven’t done anything to piss him off maybe you better go check he’s OK, he said he wasn’t feeling well before he took off. Besides, we shouldn’t really sit here and drink and play without him,” he scratched absently at his chest hair and watched as a clearly flustered Anders pushed back his chair and followed after the elf. Something was up…Varric would find out about it eventually.

 -----------------------------------------------------------------

Anders wandered up the stairs, and poked his head into Fenris’ bedroom. The elf was sitting on the edge of his bed, head bowed, fists clenching and unclenching in his lap. Anders swallowed, unsure of how to approach Fenris when he was so obviously agitated. He cleared his throat, taking a nervous step back when Fenris startled badly, obviously unaware that he had been watched.

“Fenris, are you…are you OK?” Anders stepped hesitantly into the room, walking slowly, hands palms forward at his side. Fenris, overcoming his startled twitch, kept his head down, peering at Anders through his pale fringe.

“Yes, Anders.” Fenris looked down at his hands again, struggling to keep them still, to stop clenching his fingers when his knuckles were already aching from tension. What would Anders do to him for disobeying? He had tried to be good, had felt so calm and warm and peaceful when they were together. He didn’t want it to end, but experience told him that anyone to whom he dared give himself would hurt him when he did wrong. Maybe he could avert it somehow? Make it better? Anders was no Danarius, he wasn’t deliberately cruel, but Fenris had felt so miserable when he had left that morning. The warm, safe feelings had been overtaken by dread and fear and the knowledge that he had erred. He dropped limply to his knees beside the bed, letting his face fall into his hands. “I apologise, Anders. Please forgive me for breaking your rules.”

Anders swore, and hurried forward to kneel with his lover. Reaching out, he took Fenris’ hands in his, swearing again under his breath when he realised that Fenris’ fingers were damp with tears. He pulled the elf into an embrace, resting his head onto his shoulder and stroking his hair, shushing him softly when he felt Fenris’ shudder beneath his palm. “Fenris, love, you didn’t mean it. I know that. I should be the one asking your forgiveness. It was cruel and weak of me to leave you like that, and I never should have raised my voice to you,” Anders nuzzled at his ear until Fenris turned his head towards him, and then Anders was kissing him blindly, lips reaching out to warm flesh, a cheek, the edge of his nose, the corner of his soft mouth.

Fenris responded like an animal starved of affection, lips parted and breath panting, taking everything that Anders was offering, pushing his entire body against the mage until he fell backwards and landed with the elf on top of him, blinking and blushing, hands braced on Anders’ shoulders. Anders reached up, gripping Fenris gently on the back of the neck, feeling that instant response he’d felt at the clinic, the elf softening under his grip, almost going limp against him, felt his arms tremble where he held himself up. Pulling Fenris down against him, he hugged him tightly with one arm, squeezing firmly with the hand that still wrapped the back of the elf’s neck. “I’ll try to be better for you,” he whispered into one gracefully pointed ear. “Let’s get back downstairs.”


	7. After the Card Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after Varric and Donnic leave - can Anders make it up to Fenris?

They had returned to the card game with Varric and Donnic none the wiser – or so they hoped. Fenris seemed settled, drinking and playing with his usual stern smiles and graceful hand movements. Anders on the other hand was playing terribly, not that the others seemed to notice. He lost game after game and eventually bowed out, not unhappy that it bought the four person games to an end, though Justice did sting him with guilt for being selfish. He just couldn’t concentrate on this anymore. Varric gave them an odd look when he and Donnic left and Anders stayed behind, but didn’t say anything, for which Anders was grateful.

When Fenris finally closed the door and turned to face him, Anders was on him in a rush, cradling him close, not kissing, just holding Fenris’ face to his shoulder with one hand, and squeezing him tight with the other around his waist. Fenris responded with that lovely melting softness that Anders craved after having felt it the first time. His head resting heavily on Anders shoulder, arms loosely wrapped around the mage’s hips, the elf seemed to relax around him more easily than ever. Anders could feel Fenris’ heart beating against his chest and the closeness was so good. Since Justice there had been nothing like this, and even now the spirit was quiet. Justice was a little awed by the elf’s trust in them as well it seemed, and was determined not to let Anders break it again.

For now though, Anders stroked Fenris’ hair, getting a rumbling moan in response and the sound sent a spike of lust through him. This wasn’t all about sex though, was it? This was about acceptance, and Fenris devoting himself to Anders – what did that mean exactly? They hadn’t really talked about it – Anders had been too giddy the morning after last time, and then he had walked out and nearly ruined everything. He thought back to earlier, and the sorrow in Fenris’ eyes, the way he had fallen to the floor in misery that it might be over. Anders and Justice both felt guilty about that. He needed to make it up to Fenris, to devote himself to the elf for a while, to heal the wound he had created.

He coaxed Fenris into standing, and kissed him gently on the forehead, while the elf blinked at him lazily with tired, half-drunk eyes. He was so pliant like this, Anders thought, pushing down the urge to ravish him. He led Fenris up the stairs, and into the bathing room. The tub was large and stone lined, and Anders didn’t say a word as he sat Fenris down on the wooden bench that ran the length of the wall. Fenris didn’t speak either, still looking at him with a wondering gaze, as though he couldn’t really believe that Anders had stayed.

“Fenris? Is it OK if I use my magic?” Anders asked, gesturing at the empty tub. Fenris’ eyes tightened a little, but he nodded anyway. If he hadn’t been turned sideways, half facing Fenris, Anders would have missed it. The moment when he cast the ice spell to fill the tub, then fire to warm it, two spells in rapid succession, he saw Fenris flinch, ever so slightly as each casting left his hands. Not a large movement, no, just the tiniest tremor in his hands, and then them gripping the sides of the bench, no longer relaxed against his sides. “Fenris, are you…are you OK?” Anders asked hesitantly, unsure whether it was the actual spells, or something else that was troubling Fenris. The elf shrugged, not answering. Nope. No good.

“Fenris. I need you to talk to me. Tell me what just happened. I saw…you weren’t comfortable with the magic? Or was it something else? I won’t ever hurt you with it, you know that right?” Too many questions, Anders, he chastised himself even as he waited for Fenris to answer.

“It is nothing, Anders. Just the usual,” Fenris kept his head dipped as he answered, and Anders frowned with confusion. The usual what?

“The usual?” Fenris sighed as though heavily put upon, but answered anyway.

“The usual pain.”

“Pain? Where are you hurting? You really should let me check you out better after battles, Fenris!” Anders scolded.

“No! Not that kind of…I thought you knew. I guess I assumed…magic…it hurts.”

“Hurts?” Anders looked so astonished that Fenris couldn’t help but snort a short laugh at him. But to Anders it was astonishing. He hadn’t directed any magic towards Fenris, and if he had it wouldn’t have been something painful. He hadn’t even been touching Fenris! “What do you mean, Fenris? He sat down next to Fenris and reached for his hands, holding them firmly in his own and looking the elf in the eye.

Fenris sighed again but didn’t break eye contact this time. “The brands. You already know that they’re lyrium – well, they hurt when you use magic around them. When anyone does,” he qualified. “Although…your healing magic doesn’t usually hurt, it just feels…odd.”

“Oh, thank the Maker!” Anders would have been dreadfully upset if he had been hurting the elf every time he healed him. “But…Fen, that totally sucks!”

Fenris laughed. He laughed until his eyes watered and Anders stared, utterly confused, and unable to tear his eyes from the sight of Fenris so uninhibited. This was something new again, the elf trusting him enough to let go and laugh with abandon. Anders had never seen him do more than smirk or huff a tiny laugh – even for Hawke - he wondered for a minute just how much Fenris had had to drink. Eventually Fenris stopped, wiping at his eyes and still letting out the odd chuckle.

“Ok, you done now? Want to tell me what I said that was so funny?” Anders gave him a quizzical look.

“What part of ‘I was a slave’ are you still failing to get, M…Anders?” Fenris replied, lips still quirked in a little grin. “To say that magic hurting me sucks…” here he dropped his head a little, blushing, “It just struck me as funny, that’s all. I’ve seen far worse things done with magic.” Anders nodded slowly. All of the things that Fenris had yelled at him over the years seemed to be fighting in his head for which he’d remember first. Justice was grumbling too. Anders shook his head to clear it, then looked pointedly at Fenris.

“Right. In you go. Here, let me,” he said as Fenris stood and began to remove his clothing. Anders batted his hands away gently and the elf stood still, watching as Anders tugged at his tunic, slipping it up over Fenris head and down over toned arms. He threw it aside and pulled at the tight leathers at Fenris’ waist. Fenris reached down to his side and unclasped the toggle that held them up, and Anders knelt as he pulled them down the elf’s long, muscular legs. He had to catch his breath for a moment, hard at the sight of all that beautiful brown skin, the swirling lines of lyrium that outlined the muscles and made Fenris so intriguing. He tugged the stirrups off Fenris feet, then stood, holding out his hand.

Fenris gave Anders a bemused look and took his hand with his own. Their palms were so different. Anders hands were larger, and the touch of them differed from Fenris’ – callouses in different places caused by their chosen weapons. Anders’ fingers were a little thicker, pinkish in colour and warm. Fenris’ hand felt small in his, rougher. The tan skin alternating with the stripes of lyrium that ran down to his fingertips was warm, but the touch of the lyrium was cool under Anders’ fingertips.

He helped Fenris into the deep tub, but sat on the edge, still dressed as the elf sank down, wetting his hair before popping back up and giving Anders a slightly suspicious look. “There is room in here for two, Anders,” he said, draping a wet arm casually over the side of the tub he reached out for Anders’ hand again.

“Let me take care of you, first,” Anders said. Fenris blinked water out of his eyes, the water on his black lashes made his eyes look even bigger and glossier than usual, and Anders wanted to kiss him. Instead he searched the room for a jug, and hair soap, and proceeded to wash Fenris’ hair. The elf tried to say something, and Anders shushed him with a finger to his lips, only to have Fenris suck the tip of his finger into his mouth, teeth catching it lightly before letting it go. He gave Anders a cheeky grin, and the mage almost groaned. How could this elf make him want to lose control so easily?

He massaged the soap into Fenris’ hair, biting his lip to ignore the tantalising little moans that the elf was making. Anders was entirely sure that Fenris was doing this on purpose now, and Anders was so hard it was becoming uncomfortable. He shifted position, trying to ease himself as he rinsed off the elf’s hair. Fenris was stretched out in the broad, deep tub, body relaxed and arms floating in the water. His striking body on display for Anders to take in. He couldn’t help but stare, and was running his eyes down the elf’s body when he felt a sly hand grip his hip. He didn’t have time to protest before Fenris’ strong arm had dragged him into the water, clothes and all.

He came up gasping for breath, face down in wet, white hair. Chests pressed together, Fenris wrapped his legs around Anders’ legs, trapping him against him. Anders gave Fenris his best seductive look, slightly ruined by the bedraggled untied hair that was currently dangling down beside his face and leaned forward, taking the tip of Fenris’ ear into his mouth. He’d had elven lovers before, and it was something that they had all enjoyed, so he sucked lightly, nibbling the tip, waiting for Fenris’ moan. What he got instead was a mouthful of water as Fenris simply ducked his own head below the water. It went straight up Anders’ nose then and he was coughing and choking and listening to the damned elf laughing again.

“You…You…This means war, elf!” Fenris had the gall to laugh at him again, and then the elf was pushing him up out of the water as though he were bench-pressing him and Anders was unceremoniously tossed out of the tub. He couldn’t help but be as turned on as he was annoyed. Fenris was so strong, and he looked out. Anders watched from the floor, enjoying the view as Fenris stepped over him and out of the tub. Yes, a very nice view indeed.

Anders wasn’t expecting it when Fenris turned, still dripping, and held out his hand for Anders to take. He stood, stepping over the rim of the bath and into Fenris’ strong hold. In a moment, the elf was carefully undressing him, unclasping buckles and ties as though he had memorised Anders’ clothing. It took no time until Anders was as naked as Fenris, and then the elf was wrapping him in a soft towel, rubbing gently at his body, lips turned up in the tiniest of smiles as he knelt to rub down the length of Anders’ long legs. Anders sighed in pleasure, reaching out a hand to tangle it in Fenris’ wet hair. He caught himself just before casting a warmth spell to dry them off, and bit his lip. He was going to have to do something about Fenris’ painful reaction to magic, or he wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

Anders looked down, just as Fenris looked up, undisguised devotion on his face, and Anders couldn’t help but drag him up into a heated kiss. He wrangled the towel out of the elf’s hands and began drying Fenris off, although he was certain he didn’t do such a graceful job of it as the elf. Reaching up to squeeze the water out of Fenris’ hair, he squawked in surprise as the warrior swept him off his feet and into his strong arms. Fenris chucked, looking down at him with soft eyes and a softer smile. Anders blushed, feeling his cheeks burn and a tingle of something halfway caught between embarrassment and lust ran through him. He ducked his face, leaning it against Fenris’ chest as he was carried into the bedroom.

Fenris carried him carefully to the bed, putting him down as gently as though he were a precious object, then lay down beside him, eyes gazing into Anders’ own. Anders breath caught, surprised again that Fenris was so open with him, so careful, so trusting. He raised a hand and ran it through Fenris’ still damp hair, smiling as the elf’s eyes closed and his lips opened on a sigh.

“Fenris”.

“Mmm?” His lids half-opened to show just a hint of their piercing green, and his brow wrinkled a little in question. Anders thought it was the most gorgeous he’d ever looked.

“Tired?”

“Yes, Anders,” Fenris said, lips quirking up.

“Can I make you feel good?” Anders asked, voice no more than a soft purr in Fenris’ ear. Fenris opened his eyes a little wider, smiled a little more.

“Can it wait until morning?”

“It’ll make you sleep better,” Anders replied, running his hand back through Fenris’ hair and down the nape of his neck until the elf shivered under his touch.

“I am yours”, Fenris said, and Anders felt the full force of that hit him like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t help the intake of breath that must have been loud in the elf’s ear, the widening of his eyes, a shaking in his hands. Fenris’ closed his eyes, pulling Anders close with his free arm, stretching like a cat beside him and then relaxing, all of his muscles lax. Anders kissed him, Fenris’ lips opening beneath his with no resistance, just perfect gentle pressure. Anders’ eyes welled up as he held Fenris’ nape and kissed him as though his life depended on it, tears slipping free although he tried to control them. And then Fenris’ lips were on his cheeks, his eyes, a swift tongue darting out to catch Anders’ tears, slender fingers stroking his hair and face.

“Ahh, Fenris, you don’t know what you do to me,” Anders breathed, resting their foreheads together. He needed to take some control, he wanted to make Fenris feel such pleasure, tears at the enormity of what Fenris had just said could wait. Rolling the elf onto his back, he pushed himself up on one elbow, gazing down into his face. Green eyes gazed back at him, fearless. “Close your eyes,” he whispered, and Fenris did – no questions, no trepidation. Anders almost teared up again, and Justice tutted in his mind. It was time to make up for their error, Anders was reminded.

He didn’t want to bind Fenris tonight, neither of them needed that right now. This was about showing each other that they cared for one another. Anders kissed Fenris’ mouth again, softly, barely there, feeling the way that the elf’s lips parted in expectation of more. He ran the tip of his tongue over the other’s bottom lip. Moving slowly, he sat up until he could take in Fenris’ body fully.

Anders straddled his waist, not quite gasping at the warmth of their bodies coming together. He watched Fenris’ face as he began to stroke both hands lightly over the elf’s body, beginning with his jaw and working his way down in soft, sure movements. He watched as the elf’s mouth opened, lips slack. He watched as Fenris’s eyebrows quirked up in the middle and his head tipped back with pleasure. Anders took his time, watching for the beautiful reactions, but also enjoying himself, getting to know Fen’s body, what touches he liked, what made his cock twitch and stiffen against Anders’ own.

The words tumbled out of Anders without thought, words of praise and words of desire, telling the elf exactly how beautiful, how handsome, he precious he was. Anders was always a talker, and he knew from the way that Fenris had tutted at him the first time that he wasn’t used to hearing these things, either that or he didn’t believe them. Anders didn’t stop touching Fenris, speaking soft and low as he stroked and petted and coaxed Fenris into a panting, flushed, sweating mess of elf.

He moved then, grasping Fenris’ hips, pulling and pressing just enough for the elf to get the message to roll over. Anders was pleased to see the way he rutted into the sheet, pleased to hear the low moan not stifled by the pillow that Fenris had pressed his face into, head framed by muscular arms, fingers clenched in the pillow case. He pulled at Fenris again, strong hands pulling up his pelvis until the elf had his gorgeous ass in the air, face down, cock flushed and heavy beneath him.

Anders gripped the warrior’s round cheeks in his hands, and bent to press his mouth to the elf’s entrance. He dipped the tip of his tongue against Fenris and heard a surprised yelp that devolved into a throaty moan when he continued licking and kissing. Anders took his time, mouthing at Fenris’ perineum, leaning down to suck his balls into his mouth one after the other, lapping at the base of his cock and back up to his entrance again until Fenris was making the most delicious noises. The elf was twisted trying to watch Anders when he looked up, face red, desperate gasps and moans falling from his perfect lips. Anders grinned at him.

“Anders…Anders, _please_!” Fenris panted, the words sounding as though they were dragged from him. His arms were shaking and tense, and he dropped forward again, ass on display and Anders moaned himself as he looked at the way that the elf was presenting himself so perfectly for him.

“What do you want, Fen? I want you to tell me.” A strangled moan from the pillow was all the response he got, so Anders leaned forward, resting his cock between damp arse cheeks, laying his torso along that warm back and palmed a handful of Fenris’ hair, dragging his head up so that the elf’s body was bowed and tight, strain and desire making him tremble beneath Anders’ touch.

“I want…I want to come. I want to come Anders. I want you to come inside me, fill me up with your seed,” Fenris panted, turning his head at the end as far as he could with Anders’ hand in his hair, and kissing at any part of Anders’ skin he could reach. Anders groaned, this elf would be the death of him.

He patted his side stupidly before realising that his coat was still a damp mess on the floor. Keeping one hand on the small of Fenris’ back, he leaned over until he could drag it close enough to dig around in the pocket. Aha! An elfroot potion – he always kept one on him in case of emergencies. It would work as a lubricant for now. He opened the bottle, hands shaking in anticipation, and drizzled the potion onto Fenris’ back, a puddle of it forming in the centre of his spine. Fenris hissed at the coolness, but didn’t move.

Anders dipped a finger into the potion, coating it fully before stroking gently down Fenris’ crease, feeling him quiver and tense momentarily under his touch. He stroked again, a little firmer this time, circling and pressing and smoothly stroking, alternating the motions until Fenris was again moaning into his touch. Anders scooped up a little more potion, and this carefully inserted a fingertip, Fenris gasped and twitched, and Anders pressed further, slowly working the finger in until he could twist his hand, crook his finger and touch Fenris’ prostate. The jerk Fenris made when Anders’ touched it had potion running down his sides, and Anders chuckling until Fenris said his name, voice low with desire. Anders shuddered, hips thrusting against Fenris’ ass involuntarily and he added another finger.

Fenris wasn’t sure that this was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to him. As Anders slowly opened and stretched him, he shuddered and moaned and gasped the mage’s name – overcome with sensation. This slow build-up, the attention to his needs and desires, the way that Anders touched him so surely, so confidently, without making him feel any shame or guilt – it was truly a wonder. When he thought that he couldn’t take any more, he felt the mage shift, and the warm heat of the mages fingers left him, he whimpered at the loss, hoping that it wasn’t over. It wasn’t. A moment later Anders had flipped him over again, and was kneeling between his legs. He leaned forward over the elf’s lean body and whispered in his ear. “May I take you, Fenris?”

“Yes. Yes! _Please_ …” Fenris hadn’t known that feeling this kind of desire was possible. Nobody else measured up to how Anders made him feel. He watched wide eyed as Anders slowly lined himself up and pressed in, the pressure making Fenris tense for a second. Anders raised golden brown eyes to him, and Fenris nodded, reaching for Anders hand, and when the mage laced their fingers together, Fenris relaxed again. He closed his eyes, focussing on the pressure, the way that the tip of Anders’ cock felt pressing into him just so, then the emptiness as he slid back out, bit by bit until Anders was fully hilted in him.

Fenris opened his eyes to see Anders just closing his, one hand laced in Fenris’ still, the other holding tightly to his hip, he was panting a little and Fenris couldn’t remember when he had ever looked so lovely. Then Anders began to move, and as he leaned forward, Fenris wrapped his thighs around Anders back, urging him closer and deeper. Fenris didn’t care what noises he was making, he just wanted to listen to the sounds that Anders was making. They both had open eyes now, staring wide eyed at one another, mouths slack as their bodies moved in a perfectly natural rhythm. Fenris lifted his head to steal Anders lips in a kiss, swallowing his moans and gasps, and Anders wrapped an arm around him, holding him up, keeping him warm and secure. This, this is what Fenris wanted from Anders, the feeling that he was special, valued, would be kept safe. The gesture was all it took to have him suddenly reaching orgasm, crying out as he threw his head back over Anders’ arm, thrusting erratically.

Anders let go as Fenris came, the elf’s tight anus clenching around his cock as it pulsed inside him. Later he would be a little astonished at the way Fenris had come untouched, at the way he had seemed born to receive pleasure, the way his body had been so responsive. For now he collapsed on top of his elf, holding him tightly and pressing soft kisses to his face until he softened and slowly pulled out. Fenris clutched him tighter for a moment before letting him roll off so that they could lay side by side. They stayed that way, foreheads touching, arms linked and legs tangled, and slept.


	8. In the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick fluffy morning scene.

     Waking up next to Anders, Fenris felt like he was still asleep and dreaming. The mage was curled around him on the bed, head tucked down over Fenris’ own, one arm looped tightly over the elf’s chest and legs still tangled together. He didn’t dare move for fear of waking the mage – or waking himself from the pleasant feeling that this was real. That this was something he could have. He lay still for so long that his back started to ache, and finally his bladder made demands he could no longer deny. Sighing, he disentangled himself as gently as he could, making his way to the bathroom.

     After relieving himself, he looked in the mirror. He looked the same…but he felt different. His white hair was standing up in tufts and sprouts, and his eyes were gritty with sleep. The brandings still stood out against his skin, hideous yes, but useful all the same. He flushed as he remembered the words that Anders had spoken to him, _beautiful, amazing, gorgeous_. It didn’t seem real, and he felt the urge to pinch himself. How could the gorgeous golden mage think that he was lovely to look upon when Danarius had inflicted these markings upon him? Danarius had whispered to him while taking him too – that nobody would ever see past the markings, that nobody could want an elf like him, and Fenris had believed every word.

     He was still standing there when Anders walked up behind him, arms reaching possessively around his waist while golden eyes met his in the mirror. Fenris shivered at his touch, not from the cold, but from that inner need that made him want to belong to Anders, that made him want to submit to whatever he wanted – right now, tomorrow, always. Anders eyes grew concerned as he felt Fenris shudder in his arms, and he dipped to drop a kiss on Fenris’ shoulder before asking if he was alright.

Fenris nodded, words escaping him. He turned in Anders’ embrace, tucking his head onto the taller man’s shoulder and burying his face in Anders’ loose hair. He didn’t want to speak. Speaking might ruin things like it almost had before. He couldn’t help the little frisson of fear that ran through him at the thought. Last night had been wonderful, perfect, so good that Fenris would do anything not to destroy what they were creating.

They were still both messy from last night, dried come sticky, and Anders suggested a bath. “If you leave the room while I heat the water, will it still hurt?” he asked, concerned now that he knew his magic affected Fenris badly.

Fenris shook his head slowly. “It should be alright if I go downstairs,” he muttered, and moved to do so, only to be stopped by Anders arms around his waist again. The mage pulled him in for a slow kiss.

“I’ll find some way to fix this, I promise you,” he whispered against Fenris’ lips. The elf scowled a little at that.

“Do not make promises that you may not be able to keep,” was all he said though, as he headed out of the room and down the stairs. Fenris collected a meagre breakfast from the kitchen, a chunk of ham, a couple of apples, steaming tea and the end of a loaf of bread. When he returned to the bathroom Anders was already in the steaming tub and Fenris sat on the side, slowly feeding him, feeling a quiet satisfaction as Anders ate from his fingers. He could do this for his slender mage lover and it pleased him greatly.

After they had both bathed and dressed Fenris escorted Anders to his clinic. The sun was still low in the sky, and Anders sighed as they entered Lowtown, the shadows of Hightowns tall buildings long and dark around them. The lift to Darktown was busy with workers travelling up and down, and while they waited their turn Anders took Fen’s hand in his own, carefully avoiding the gauntlet’s sharp tips. He was a little surprised that Fenris let him – they were in public after all, but apart from a light pink tinge to his ears, there was no reaction from the elf but a gentle squeeze of his palm. Anders grinned, tilting his face up to the rays of sun that were finally peeking past Hightown. Things were good. He tried to keep his optimism in check, but right now, he felt just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my writing, please feel free to bribe me for more by donating towards a cup of coffee! https://ko-fi.com/A20836M (also please feel free to request anything at my tumblr - shinyhill.tumblr.com!


	9. Fenris' Perspective (Redux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another fluffy silly chapter (smut next time!)

Fenris felt the sun on his front, Anders’ hand warm in his, and smiled a little as Anders turned his face up to feel the sun on it. His lover was such a silly childish thing sometimes. He needed to be looked after, someone had to protect that spark of sweetness in him. Fenris tightened his grip on the mages’ hand – he wanted to be that person.

The lift creaked and groaned as they dropped into the Darktown dimness, cold stone under Fenris’ feet, and the sun gone apart from where it streamed in through windows cut into the thick stone above them. They strolled through the Undercity, a few people raised eyebrows at their linked hands, but nobody said anything. Most were too busy setting up stalls or trying to corral refugee children, and couldn’t spare a moment to linger on thoughts of their healer’s love life.

Anders unlocked the clinic doors, throwing both open and using a flint and steel to strike the lamp rather than just sending a spark of flame at it the way he normally would. Fenris sighed. If he’d realised that Anders didn’t know that magic bothered him, he would have been more careful to keep it a secret. The last thing that he wanted was for the mage to worry about him and not using magic when he needed it. Unless the spell were blood magic (being around Merrill was occasionally excruciating), or very large, the pain was manageable. He had had at least a decade to get used to it, and honestly things were much easier here in Kirkwall than they had been in Tevinter where most mages were blood mages, and showy displays of magic were far more common. He determined to talk to Anders about it later.

Right now though, he was feeling at a loose end. Anders was puttering around, comfortable in his own space, setting out potions and bandages and generally looking like he was self-sufficient and didn’t need Fenris around right now. Having nothing pressing to do – no action from Hawke yet today, and he wasn’t one for window-shopping or housework. His hands fluttered at his sides for a moment, a nervous gesture which was very unlike him. He raised one foot, then the other, rubbing them one after another on his calves to remove Darktown’s dust.

Anders looked up, seeming to realise suddenly that Fenris was still standing near the doorway. His eyebrows raised and then he frowned. Fenris couldn’t help the inner flinch at seeing the frown marring his brow, and felt like kicking himself. He couldn’t keep being afraid of Anders, not if they were going to take this relationship further. He hoped  - and wasn’t that a strange and wonderful feeling? – that they would. That they could.

Anders walked over, reaching out a hand, and Fenris took it without thought. For a moment Anders just looked at him, then a mischievous look passed over his face and Fenris steeled himself for one of the healer’s frequent jokes, but instead, Anders swung Fenris into his arms and began to dance with him. It was so unexpected that Fenris fell into a fit of giggling, Anders’ arm strong around his waist as he waltzed them around the floor to a tune only he could hear. His giggle became a chuckle, and then they were both laughing, spinning and turning together, feet stumbling over one another’s as they laughed too hard to keep their balance. Just as they both collapsed into a red-faced heap on the floor, gasping for air, Varric walked in.

Fenris froze, and Anders peered over his shoulder. They were tangled on the floor in an ungainly heap and Varric’s jaw was hanging almost to his hairy chest. Fenris blinked, face red and ears twitching nervously. He scrambled to his feet, feeling the buzz from his laughter high draining out of him as a cold dread took its place. What would Anders do? What should he say? He didn’t want to snap at Anders…but he didn’t want their friends to find out about them either. Shit! He stood there, blushing and unsure as Varric began to replace their laughing with his own.

The dwarf clutched his belly and chortled. Fenris went redder and began to scowl. His fists clenched up at his sides. He could see Anders looking nervously between them, and looked away, ashamed at his confusion. “Oh, shut up Varric!” snapped Anders. “This isn’t whatever your dirty little dwarven mind thinks it is,” he stood, with about as much grace as Fenris had managed, which was to say, not much at all, and brushed vainly at the dust on his coat.

“Oh right,” Varric said. “This I have to hear. Please do explain what you and Broody were doing all snuggled up on the floor.” Fenris glared at him, and then turned to Anders, knowing that he had a pleading look on his face and unable to stop it. Anders’s gaze flickered to him, and then back to Varric, and Fenris could almost see the cogs turning in his head as he searched for a reasonable explanation. Suddenly, Fenris knew what he had to do.

Stepping forward, he swept Anders into his arms and kissed him soundly. “There,” he snapped, glaring at Varric again as he kept Anders in a firm grip. “Good enough explanation for you?” Varric’s jaw dropped again, and Fenris smirked, enjoying the comical look as Varric searched for words. It was unusual in the extreme for the verbose dwarf to be unable to find a reply. He waited until Varric managed to snap his jaw shut and nod vigorously, coughing a little. “Good, then get out and give us some privacy,” said Fenris and let go of Anders for long enough to physically shove Varric out through the doors and lock them back up.

He took one look at Anders – his jaw was dropped as far as Varric had been – and burst out laughing again. After they had both laughed themselves back into a heap on the floor, Fenris wiped the laughter-tears gently from Anders’ face, cupping his face in his palms. “Oh, Fenris. I’m so proud of you,” Anders breathed, and they fell into a kiss. Fenris felt a spark of pride and happiness lodge within him. He couldn’t remember having laughed so much, or felt so good about himself ever before. It was a good feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like my writing, please feel free to bribe me for more by donating towards a cup of coffee! https://ko-fi.com/A20836M (also please feel free to request anything at my tumblr - shinyhill.tumblr.com!


	10. The news is out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one! Sorry about the long break on all of my fics, uni and life have been difficult for a while now. I'm going to try to make a better effort though. Hope you like it!

After Varric left, and the laughter stopped, Fenris felt less self-conscious than he had. Anders set him to folding bandages, while they waited for patients to arrive. Anders himself was humming at a table in the corner, crushing herbs for use in his potions, and Fenris watched him absently. Folding the bandages took little of his attention, and though his ears twitched at the unfamiliar sounds of Darktown waking, he was relaxed enough.

Anders turned to catch him watching and waltzed over with hips swinging, bringing a smirk to Fenris’ face. Silly mage. He reached out and lay his hands on those hips, swinging them closer and raising his face for a kiss. A quick peck was all he got before Anders was dancing away again, still humming. Fenris cleared his throat. “What is that song you keep humming?” he asked.

“What? Oh…I don’t know, just making it up as I go along. I like music, keeps my mind busy.” Fenris nodded absently, ducking his head to hide a smile. Perhaps he could help with that. He was determined to be useful to the mage, and find a way to provide him with more than just kisses and sex. He wanted to be more than that. He _was_ more than that. He wouldn’t let their budding relationship turn him into a pleasure slave. That wasn’t the point. He didn’t notice his hands wringing the bandage he was supposed to be folding until Anders looked back over his shoulder and approached, a little frown marring his brow.

“Did that one upset you, Fen?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry,” Fenris blushed and straightened out the fabric, but he’d wrung it so hard that the ends were now hopelessly frayed. He grunted a little, dismayed.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m absolutely sure that I can find a good use for it.” The words were innocent, but not the tone in which they were said, Anders’ voice had dropped to a sultry drawl, and he took the tattered bandage gently from Fenris’ hands and wrapped it momentarily around his neck, dragging him in for a kiss that held all the promise that the last one had lacked. Fenris shuddered, clinging to Anders’ arms and letting himself lean into the kiss. Anders moaned, and pulled away. “Later,” he said with finality and dragged himself back to his potions. Fenris allowed himself a small smile as he took up the next bandage in the pile, watching as Anders stuffed the tattered bandage into one of his pockets. He felt a frisson of excitement, and shook himself. Later was time enough for that. Right now there was work to do.

 

It was less than an hour later that Hawke was at the door. If it had been closed he would have slammed it open dramatically, but alas it was open and the best that he could manage was to spread his arms wide and holler a greeting. Isabela entered with a little more decorum, and giggling at her side was Merrill. Varric had apparently spread the news. Fenris resisted the urge to hide in the back room. Letting the news out hadn’t been planned, and although he was anything but ashamed, he wasn’t one to want his personal affairs made public either. He scowled at the group, frown deepening when Isabela instantly began teasing Anders. Merrill was gushing with happy chirping comments and Hawke was striding around with an enormous grin on his face, looking like he owned the place. Anders gave Fenris a helpless look and managed to corral them all into taking a seat on a cot. He bustled around making tea, while Fenris suffered through more teasing, his ears red. At least this would be the worst of it. Maker, he hoped so anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writing, please feel free to bribe me for more by donating towards a cup of coffee! https://ko-fi.com/A20836M (also please feel free to request anything at my tumblr - shinyhill.tumblr.com!


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